As though your highness were a schoolboy still,
And must be awed and governed like a child.
Long live my sovereign, the noble Edward,
In peace triumphant, fortunate in wars!
Welcome, old man: com’st thou in Edward’s aid?
Then tell thy prince of whence and what thou art.
Low, with a band of bowmen and of pikes,
Brown bills and targeteers, four hundred strong,
Sworn to defend King Edward’s royal right,
I come in person to your majesty,
Spenser, the father of Hugh Spenser there,
Bound to your highness everlastingly
For favour done, in him, unto us all.
Thy father, Spenser?
True, an it like your grace,
That pours, in lieu of all your goodness shown,
His life, my lord, before your princely feet.
Welcome ten thousand times, old man, again!
Spenser, this love, this kindness to thy king,
Argues thy noble mind and disposition.
Spenser, I here create thee Earl of Wiltshire,
And daily will enrich thee with our favour,
That, as the sunshine, shall reflect o’er thee.
Beside, the more to manifest our love,
Because we hear Lord Bruce doth sell his land,
And that the Mortimers are in hand withal,
Thou shalt have crowns of us to outbid the barons;
And, Spenser, spare them not, lay it on.—
Soldiers, a largess, and thrice-welcome all!
News of dishonour, lord, and discontent.
Our friend Levune, faithful and full of trust,
Informeth us, by letters and by words,
That Lord Valois our brother, King of France,
Because your highness hath been slack in homage,
Hath seized Normandy into his hands.
These be the letters, this the messenger.
Welcome, Levune.—Tush, Sib, if this be all,
Valois and I will soon be friends again.—
But to my Gaveston: shall I never see,
Never behold thee now!—Madam, in this matter
We will employ you and your little son;
You shall go parley with the King of France.—
Boy, see you bear you bravely to the king,
And do your message with a majesty.
Commit not to my youth things of more weight
Than fits a prince so young as I to bear;
And fear not, lord and father—heaven’s great beams
On Atlas’ shoulder shall not lie more safe
Than shall your charge committed to my trust.
Ah, boy, this towardness makes thy mother fear
Thou art not marked to many days on earth!
Madam, we will that you with speed be shipped,
And this our son; Levune shall follow you
With all the haste we can despatch him hence.
Choose of our lords to bear you company;
And go in peace; leave us in wars at home.
Unnatural wars, where subjects brave their king:
God end them once!—My lord, I take my leave,
To make my preparation for France. Exit with Prince Edward.
Ah, traitors, have they put my friend to death?
Tell me, Arundel, died he ere thou cam’st,
Or didst thou see my friend to take his death?
Neither, my lord; for, as he was surprised,
Begirt with weapons and with enemies round,
I did your highness’ message to them all,
Demanding him of them, entreating rather,
And said, upon the honour of my name,
That I would undertake to carry him
Unto your highness, and to bring him back.
I found them at the first inexorable;
The Earl of Warwick would not bide the hearing,
Mortimer hardly; Pembroke and Lancaster
Spake least; and when they flatly had denied,
Refusing to receive me pledge for him,
The Earl of Pembroke mildly thus bespake;
“My lord, because our sovereign sends for him,
And promiseth he shall be safe returned,
I will this undertake, to have him hence,
And see him re-delivered to your hands.”
The Earl of Warwick seized him on his way;
For, being delivered unto Pembroke’s men,
Their lord rode home, thinking his prisoner safe;
But, ere he came, Warwick in ambush lay,
And bare him to his death; and in a trench
Strake off his head, and marched unto the camp.
My lord, refer your vengeance to the sword
Upon these barons; hearten up your men;
Let them not unrevenged murder your friends!
Advance your standard, Edward, in the field,
And march to fire them from their starting-holes.
Kneeling. By earth, the common mother of us all,
By heaven, and all the moving orbs thereof,
By this right hand, and by my father’s sword,
And all the honours ’longing to my crown,
I will have heads and lives for him as many
As I have manors, castles, towns, and towers!—Rises.
Treacherous Warwick! traitorous Mortimer!
If I be England’s king, in lakes of gore
Your headless trunks, your bodies will I trail,
That you may drink your fill, and quaff in blood,
And stain my royal standard with the same,
That so my bloody colours may suggest
Remembrance of revenge immortally
On your accursed traitorous progeny,
You villains that have slain my Gaveston!—
And in this place of honour and of trust,
Spenser, sweet Spenser, I adopt thee here;
And merely of our love we do create thee
Earl of Gloucester and Lord Chamberlain,
Despite of times, despite of enemies.
My lord, here’s a messenger from the barons
Desires access unto your majesty.
So wish not they, I wis, that sent thee hither.
Thou com’st from Mortimer and his complices:
A ranker rout of rebels never was.
Well, say thy message.
The barons, up in arms, by me salute
Your highness with long life and happiness;
And bid me say, as plainer to your grace,
That if without effusion of blood
You will this grief have ease
